Chapter Text
Pain
That’s all Nesta felt these days, alongside the fleeting feeling of comfort when she laid next to a random male she’d picked up from the tavern and took home or when she let the music take hold of her when she danced. She scarcely felt joy. It felt like after the war, after her father died, she didn’t have the capacity to feel much more than blinding rage and hatred. Hatred towards her father for telling her how much he cared for her when he barely put in the effort when he was alive. Hatred at her sisters for moving on and acting like the war hadn’t left its fair share of scars. Hatred towards the Caldron for turning her into the thing she was once feared as a child.
But the hatred she harboured for herself struck the hardest, hatred for making it out of the war alive, hatred for not being able to move one from her mortal life. Hatred for the fact that she couldn’t pretend that the monsters that plagued her dreams weren’t real.
It was early morning, and she was currently being escorted to her sister's new house by Cassian. She wanted to arrive on her own, it was a short distance, but was told that she was to be delivered from door to door, like some parcel. She put on the dress she peeled off herself the night before and donned her shoes. She put on her coat whilst Cassian chirped about how her house was a mess and that she should look after it better. It didn’t feel like a home, just a cold, lifeless flat that she’d spend her mornings sleeping in and her evenings away from. She knew the apartment wasn’t worth living in, but Nesta didn’t feel the need to leave, why bother.
She and Cassian left the flat and made their way down to the front entrance, the silence palpable. Nesta wasn’t in the mood for another row with Cassian, dealing with his retorts about how she should be thankful that she’s fae, it always went back to that, as if she should be thankful for it. Cassian held out a hand and she begrudgingly took it, letting the male carry her, who seemed to enjoy the fact that she was uncomfortable being carried like a doll, to her youngest sister's river house. The cool autumn air nipped at her face, the sensation like daggers slashing against her skin, she welcomed the pain.
They made it to the house; a house wasn’t the word for it, palace suited it better. The floor was wood, polished enough so that Nesta was able to see her face, the floor was covered with plush carpets that Nesta’s feet sank into. She remembered that her left shoe was coated with wine but didn’t care enough about it. The walls were adorned with faelights, nest-shaped orb cast shimmering reflections on the polished pale wood floors, and copious pieces of artwork.
Nesta looked closely at the art, (most of it done by Feyre of course.) portraits of herself and her mate, her friends, her family but none of her. Their father even had a portrait done of him, he was next to Elain, smiling. Nesta wasn't surprised that their mother didn’t also have a portrait. It's easy to ignore a dead woman. It seemed silly, but she would be lying if it didn’t sting, was she so unworthy of a portrait?
She braced herself as she followed Cassian as he slipped into the study and said to whoever awaited them, “She’s here.”
“You’re five minutes early. I’m impressed.” Feyre said, chuckling.
The study opened into a lush garden courtyard. The space was warm and rich, and she might have admitted she liked the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, the sapphire velvet furniture before the black marble hearth, had she not seen who was sitting inside.
Feyre perched on the rolled arm of the couch, clad in a heavy white sweater and dark leggings.
Rhys, in his usual black, leaned against the mantle, arms crossed. No wings today.
And Amren, in her preferred grey, sat cross-legged in the leather armchair by the roaring hearth, those muted silver eyes sweeping over Nesta with distaste. Nesta would be lying if she said she didn't miss what friendship she and the woman had, talking, creating puzzles, just simple conversation but now, she thought that she found a friend in Amren, someone who understood her. But now, Amren regarded her like one would regard a speck of dirt on their shoe.
Feyre, at least, smiled at her. “I heard you had quite the night.”
Oh great, more scolding. Nesta sighed and tried to think of anything to stop her from pissing Feyre off, she wasn't in the mood for tears.
Nesta glanced between where Cassian had claimed the empty spot on the couch beside Feyre, and where Rhys stood by the hearth. She decided to sit on the armchair across from Amren, feeling the woman shoot daggers at her.
“You look atrocious.” Amren said.
“I didn't know that my appearance was up for discussion, so now, if we could get this over with, I'd like to leave.” Nesta couldn’t hold back the bite in her words, the Caldron had taken whatever power Amren had possessed but her tongue was still sharp and posed to strike.
“When you look and smell the way you do, I believe I can.” Amren shot back, her eyes burning into Nesta. But without her infinite power, the look lost the fire behind it.
“Enough,” Feyre said, sitting upright and looking at Rhysand, who nodded at her.
“We need to make some changes, Nesta, you do—and we do.”
Nesta raised a brow at that.
“I’ll take the blame,” Feyre went on, “for allowing things to get this far, and this bad. After the war with Hybern, with everything else that was going on, it … You … I should have been there to help you, but I wasn’t, and I am ready to admit that this is partially my fault.”
“What is your fault, exactly?” Nesta hissed, her nails digging into her palm.
“You,” Cassian said. “This bullshit behaviour.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” She didn’t spare Cassian a glance as she spoke, keeping her eyes trained on her sister.
“I understand how you’re feeling,” Feyre said, trying to take hold of the conversation.
“You know nothing about how I’m feeling.”
Feyre ploughed ahead. “It’s time for some changes. Starting now.”
“Keep your self-righteous do-gooder nonsense out of my life.”
“You don’t have a life,” Feyre retorted. “And I’m not going to sit by for another moment and watch you destroy yourself.” She put a tattooed hand on her heart, like it meant something. “I decided after the war to give you time, but it seems that was wrong. I was wrong.”
“Oh?” The word was a dagger thrown between them.
Rhys tensed, but still said nothing.
“You’re done,” Feyre breathed, voice shaking. “This behaviour, that apartment, all of it—you are done, Nesta.”
“And where,” Nesta said, her tone mercifully icy, “am I supposed to go?”
Feyre looked to Cassian, and for once, he wasn’t grinning. “You’re coming with me,” he said. “To train.”
“What?” Nesta’s voice was cold, she thought the male was joking, but one look into his eyes said otherwise.
“As of this meeting,” Feyre clarified, “you’re moving into the House of Wind.” She nodded eastward, toward the palace carved into the mountains at the far end of the city. “Rhys and I have decided that each morning, you will train with Cassian in Windhaven, in the Illyrian Mountains. After lunch, for the rest of the afternoon, you will be assigned work in the library beneath the House of Wind. But the apartment, the seedy taverns—all of that is over, Nesta.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Nesta said as she glared at her sister. Who was she to take away her choice, her freedom?
“You have two choices girl,” Nesta prickled at the word. “One,” Amren said, raising a slender finger, “you can move up to the House of Wind, train with Cassian in the mornings, and work in the library in the afternoons. You will not be a prisoner. But there will be no one to fly or winnow you down to the city. If you want to venture into the city proper, by all means, go ahead. That is, if you can brave the ten thousand steps down from the House.” Amren’s eyes glittered with the challenge. “And if you can somehow find two coppers to rub together to buy yourself a drink. But if you follow this plan, we will reevaluate where and how you live in a few months.”
“And my other option?” Nesta spat.
“You go back to the human lands.”
“So, my options are to train with people I don’t like, work with people I don’t know, be locked up in a house where I can’t leave on my own, or be subjected to the human lands, people who will kill me in an instant? I’m not doing that.”
“You’ll find,” Rhysand said as he spoke up for the first time, “That you don’t have a choice, as a member of the Night Court-”
“I’m not a member of your damned court and I'd rather die than be one.” Nesta spat back.
“You seem to have no qualms about spending this court’s money.” Amren countered. “During the war with Hybern, you accepted the position as our human emissary. You never resigned from the role, so formal law still considers you an official member of this court.” A wave of her small fingers and a book floated toward Nesta before thumping onto the cushions beside her. That was about the extent of the magic Amren now possessed—ordinary, unremarkable High Fae magic. “Page two hundred thirty-six, if you want to check.”
Nesta looked at the book in shock, could they do this? Detain her in the House of Wind and be in forced proximity to a man that she couldn't stand? The idea was sickening. She was about to concede but a small voice in her whispered.
Don’t trust the Fae, their sweet words and half-truths make up for their inability to lie.
The saying had been drilled into her head since she was a little girl. Nesta knew it was stupid, the fae could lie, they had multiple times. But it felt... off. Nesta couldn’t put her finger on it, why would they go through all that trouble to keep her here? She looked up at her sister, her face a mask of indifference.
“We haven’t got all day girl.” Amren snapped. The word ‘girl’ had Nesta’s insides boiling. In an instant, Nesta grabbed the book, flipped to the page she mentioned and read through it.
It took a while. The writing was old and smudged, and the page was frayed and brittle to the touch, but she read it, nonetheless. She made it to the page and lo and behold, Amren was right. It said that anyone working for the High Lord could be seen as a citizen of their court. Nesta’s heart dropped. This was it, she was trapped
“You see,” Rhysand said with a grin. “The law states it, and I’d hate to throw you in a dungeon for breaking the law.”
“Enough.” Feyre scowled. “If you can’t mind your tongue then you can leave.” She faced Amren. “And you as well.”
Nesta was still looking at the book, her eyes teary, causing the words on the page to blur, it was either prison or the House of Wind, she knew deep down that Feyre wouldn’t allow her to go to the human lands, she reached for her eyes to wipe away the tears but her hand came back dry. What? She looked at the page and the words would be solid for a second, then turn into blobs the next. She rubbed her eyes again but the text was still blury.
Nesta grabbed the book and brought it closer to her face.
“What?” Amren said, a hint of panic in her normaly monotone voice. That pushed Nesta to ignore her and keep looking at the page, what was it? She inspected the page far, scanning the text over and over again, wondering what was wrong. Maybe in wanting something to prove she didn't have to stay, she was looking for something that didn't exist.
Then the answer came to her: it was a Glamour. They covered the page in magic. Nesta felt like singing, they had no grounds to keep her. She reached down her gut and took a deep breath, she tried to imagine the glamour coming off the page, like ashes scattering into the wind, like her father. She focused on the page and the painful sensation building in her chest, the same feeling she felt when she was released from that damned caldron and every day after it.
For a while nothing happened, then the page shifted, and the glamour disappeared. The magic scattered like dust and flew out the window. Nesta read the page again, trying to leash her joy in, but the page spoke about how land was distributed and the laws regarding it. She looked at Amren, triumphant and saw the female look at her in barely concealed rage.
“Nice try but it looks like you’re mistaken, there’s nothing about keeping me here, and I resign from my duties as Emissary for the Night Court. You have no reason to keep me here, goodbye.”
“Returning to your house?” Rhysand composed himself, looking at Nesta with a smug smile on his face. “No point. I had the landlord evict you. Elain is currently packing your things. They’ll be waiting for you when you arrive. If you don’t make a choice, we’ll make one for you.”
Rage, Rage unlike any Nesta had known, burned in her chest. They planned this hour ago and had evicted Nesta from her flat. She fixed the High lord of the Night Court with a scathing glare.
“What gives you the right?” She took a step towards Rhysand, and he pushed himself off the mantle as he stared at her in amusement.
“I am the High Lord of the Night Court, and you’ll see, Nesta that what I say, goes. Choose your option.”
What I say goes.
Rhysand was right, as long as she stayed in the Night court, she’d be at the whims of her sister and her family, forced to attend dinners with them, be locked in a house and be brought out when people needed her. A life like that sounded draining.
Unless-
“Fine, I'll go.” Feyre looked relieved as she smiled up at her sister, Cassian mirrored Feyre. Rhysand looked satisfied and Amren looked pleased, like she had finished dealing with a wild toddler.
“I’m glad you agree,” Cassian said, “Training will be hard but I'll-”
“I'm sorry.” Nesta said as she grinned, flashing her elongated canines. “I said I'd go, I didn’t say that I'd go to the House of Wind, I’m leaving.”
Rhysand’s face shifted into fury, Feyre looked shocked and spoke up after regaining her voice.
“Go? To the Human Lands? They’d sooner shoot you dead with ash arrows than accept you into their homes.”
“Oh that would please you wouldn’t it? Go back to the Human Lands and live in fear constantly? I'm sorry to disappoint my dear sister, but I have no intentions to pass through Pythian or tell you where I'll go.”
“Girl,” Amren said as she stood up, “Stop being foolish!”
“No.” Nesta said, her gut tightening as she felt something that had been dormant for long start to move. “You said that I could either go and train at the House of Wind or I could go to the Human lands, I'm not doing either so I'm leaving. I no longer want to see any of you and be held to your stupid expectations.” As she made her way to the door, Rhysand winnowed in front of her, eyes glowing with hatred.
“You will stay Nesta Archeron, you will go to the House of Wind and train, you will stop the drinking and spending and work at the library and that is an order.” His magic seeped into Nesta, forcing her to succumb to his will. She should be at the house, she should train, she should-
Just then, Nesta could feel her hands tingle, it was like the dam that was containing all the rage she harboured had burst, destroying everything in its path. She could feel her hands start to tingle, then they started to burn, but it didn't feel like fire. It felt like the sensation when you keep your hands in ice for far too long and they start to burn. And just before the pain came too much to bear, her hand burst into flames, silver flames. The same one that came out of her during the war, encasing her hands entirely. She felt the magic awaken, working its way to her head, chest, legs. It was pain, it was freeing, it was old, it was new, it was everything and nothing. She faced the high lord and spoke.
“You do not control me, High Lord, you have no hold over me. Move!” Her flames doubled in size and Nesta pushed the flames towards Rhysand, who moved back, looking at his chest where the remains of his shirt burned.
“Stop!” Feyre yelled as she pulled Nesta back from Rhysand, his eyes wide in shock. The flames retreated but Nesta could feel her power churning inside restless, she wanted to burn, she wanted to reduce this pathetic house and court to the ground.
"Please Nesta stay, we can help you. Please.” Feyre was crying and Cassian had a look of horror on his face.
Good. she thought, they should be afraid.
“No,” Nesta’s voice was clipped. “I'm leaving. And if any of you try and force me to stay, I will burn all of you.” She turned and met everyone’s eyes, from Feyre’s sad face to Amrem’s astounded look. They could look at Nesta like that all they wanted, it didn’t change the fact that Nesta was to be free of them. She turned back around and made her way out of the house. She made it to the front porch and was about to leave when Cassian grabbed her hand.
“Let me go.”
“No.” he said as his eyes started into hers. “I can’t let you do this to yourself.”
“Then fuck off.”
“There’s the Nesta I know.” he smiled at her and her blood boiled, he didn’t know her, he never tried to.
“You don’t know me. You never made an effort to know me. Let. Me. Go.” Her hand caught on fire again and Cassian quickly withdrew his hands and he stared at her.
“Please Nes, let me help you.” he sounded dejected, helpless even.
“If your idea of help is locking me up, I don’t want any part of it.”
“So, what, this is it? I thought we had something between us, Nesta.”
“You thought wrong. If your bed grows cold, you could always crawl back to Morrigan.” she said with a grin, the flames dying out.
“For the love of the Mother, I see her as a sister.” Cassian groaned as he dragged his hands over his face.
“Sure, if you make the habit of flirting with your sister.”
“You’re a real bitch you know.” Cassian said as he glared at Nesta. “The reason people distance themselves is because you have such a piss poor attitude.”
“I don’t care what other people think, Goodbye.” Lie, she did care, she wanted someone to see her, someone to understand her. But no one did, and she could learn to live with that. Shed been doing that so far. She made her way down the path when he spoke up.
“What about us?” She looked back at him, and he looked defeated, his face pained. She remembered looking at his face during the war and how her heart would sing. But now, Nesta felt nothing.
“There is no us.” Cassian looked at her, his eyes full of sorrow, then he turned to walk back inside. Nesta allowed herself a few seconds to gather herself before she made her way back to her flat.
She made it up the stairs to her flat, her heart beating in her mouth as she flung open the door to her bedroom and saw her sister packing up her stuff. Elain turned around in shock and breathed out a sigh when she saw Nesta. Elain looked as beautiful as always, her lavender dress framing her thin figure and her soft hair framing her face. Immortality only added to her already breathtaking beauty.
“Oh, you scared me.” She said smiling as she grabbed a dress and placed it into a small bag she had on Nesta’s mattress. “I didn’t know that the meeting was going to end so soon.”
“Put down my stuff Elain.” Nesta said. Her voice hard.
Elain looked at her in shock. “Nesta what do you mean? Do you want to leave your stuff? It’s fine. I'm sure Feyre can give you some clothes at the House of Wind-”
“No, I'm not going to the House of Wind.” she said as she looked at Elain. Her sister stared at her in confusion then her eyes widened in shock.
“No, don’t tell me you're going to the human lands! Nesta no! They didn't mean to say that. Please, just stay in the House of Wind. You can train, you can get better, you're ruining yourself.” Elain said as she stepped forward, grabbing her sister’s shoulders. Nesta tensed at the touch.
“I'm not staying here. I'm leaving. I'm leaving the Night Court.” Elain's hands dropped from Nesta’s shoulders as she stared at her. For a couple of seconds, no one spoke. All that could be heard is the chatter from the streets, from the window that Cassian had opened before she departed in the morning.
“What do you mean by you’re leaving the Night Court? Where would you go?”
“I don't know where I'm going to go. All I know is I'm not staying here while they try to lord over me like they own me.”
“They're not trying to lord over you,” Elain said softly, as if she were trying to comfort a child, “They’re just trying to help you get better, Nesta, you're ruining yourself.”
“So, you think the solution is to lock me up in a house? I'm not standing for that. I'm leaving. Get out of my house.”
“It's not your house anymore. It's being condemned. You can’t leave Nesta, please just stay.”
“You might be comfortable here. You might be comfortably living in her house and pretending like everything that happened didn’t. I'm not. If I have to stay a second here longer than I have to-” Nesta cut herself off as she rubbed her eyes. “Elain,” she said softly. “Please just leave.”
“You run, you know,” Elain said, her voice taking a bitter tone that Nesta hadn't heard. “You run from everything, you run from problems, you can from yourself, you run from Cassian-”
“Don’t bring up Cassian.” Nesta hissed, the fire burning inside begging to be released.
“You’ve changed since the war, the Nesta I know would never act like this!” Elain threw her hands up.
“Did it ever occur to you that the war could have changed me? Becoming fae could have changed me?”
“Yes, but not like this-”
“When you were turned, you laid around for 3 months, not talking, not eating, just crying. And I spent the whole time at your side, believing that you would end your life if I even so slept in a different room. You don’t have the right to tell me how to cope. Now leave.” Nesta knew it was a low blow to talk about Elain’s struggle when she became Fae, but how could she stand there and tell her that she’s ruining herself when she wasn’t even lucid. Why did they all expect her to be ok with everything?
“Fine.” Elain’s voice quivered as she stood tall and looked at Nesta with pity. “If you want to drink yourself to death fine, if you want to push away the people that care for you fine. Goodbye Nesta.” with that, Elain walked out of the apartment, leaving Nesta to her thoughts and by herself, alone. It didn’t matter how many men she bedded, she always felt alone. She sat down on her mattress and but her head in her hands.
Elain was right, where would Nesta go? Spring and Autumn were out of the question, Summer and Winter were too far to travel to, so it was between Day and Dawn. Nesta weighed her options, Day was a good choice, but Helion was close with Rhysand and might bring her back, but Dawn, Nesta had no issues with Dawn when she went for the High Lords summit, it seemed nice enough. And she could catch a ferry to the nearest town. She stood up and went to her desk and fished out the small amount of gold she had, it seemed to be enough to get her to Dawn but not much more. She looked at the stuff Elain had packed for her, nothing much, just some books and clothes.
Nesta stood up and rummaged through her flat, trying to find anything of worth. She cursed herself for leaving her jewellery at the townhouse, all she had was a small necklace that cost no more than 20 marks.
She was at a loss until she remembered the jewellery that Feyre had gifted her when she went to meet with the high lords, Nesta stood up and looked for the blue box the jewellery was in, finding under her books, Nesta stared at the jewels, they could last her a week, maybe 2 if she spread herself thin and if things roughly cost the same as it did here. Nesta went and changed into a nicer (cleaner) blue dress, grabbed her stuff and made her way out of the flat for the last time.
Each step she took, Nesta was full on convinced that Cassian would swoop down and force her to go to the House of Wind. Every shadow that passed had her walk faster.
Nesta pawned the jewellery at a store hidden in an alleyway, the shopkeeper looked sceptical at Nesta but relaxed when she brought out the jewellery, she haggled with the male for 10 minutes straight until he gave her a decent amount of gold. By the time she was done, it was midday, the sun at its peak, basking the town in its light. Dawn would be good, she could start anew, have a life better than this one. After getting directions, she made a beeline to the harbour where a boat was being loaded up.
“Excuse me,” she said to the male who was collecting the fares. “Will this ferry pass by Dawn court perchance?”
“It is.” The male said in a gruff voice. “Last one of the day. 20 marks.”
“15.” The male stared at her, holding her gaze. Nesta’s face was unmoving.
“Fine 15.” Nesta dropped the gold in the male’s hands and gave him a smile as she boarded the ferry, not glancing back at Velaris once as she made her way to a new life. A better one.